


Royal Blood

by jadawrites



Category: Original Work
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25805461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadawrites/pseuds/jadawrites
Summary: Once upon a time, there were three siblings; and eldest girl and two boys. They weren't 'normal' for three reasons. The most obvious one being that they were royalty: a princess who would inherit the the throne and two princes who couldn't care less about it, ruled by a father who didn't care much about them. The next obvious reason was that their mother had died eight yers ago and still hadn't stopped haunting them (not literally, of course, ghosts are a dreadful thing). The least normal, least obvious reason? That would be the bizarre circumstances surrounding the death of their mother, but even the siblings don't know about that yet, so how could I tell you?---This is lowkey the first draft of my book lol.
Kudos: 4





	1. Mason's Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! So this is kind of my baby? I've been working on her for two years and after some pretty supportive comments I've decided to post her here. :) I really hope you enjoy her but if you do have criticism please comment it!! Do be nice though my feelings soft af.

Mason had always held a fondness for the library. It was his mother’s favorite room in the castle when she had been alive, so while Addy was buried under her paperwork and Mark was bugging his tutor for another round of sparring, Mason had adopted his mother’s habit of burying himself in the library. He read everything he could get his hands on, and in the days when he wasn’t allowed to hide in the library, he would carry a book around with him. No matter the story the book seemed to tell, it always held a piece of the dusty quiet that he much preferred over the loud noise of the castle.

It might have been a little childish of Mason, to use his mother’s death as an excuse to hide away from everything he didn’t like, and his father definitely thought so, but no one would say it to his face. That’s one of the benefits of being a prince, he supposes. No one questions you when you spend a week in the library after your mother’s death. No one questions when you miraculously show up for the funeral. No one questions you when even eight years later you still spend most of your time buried in hiding spots. Mason wasn’t sure if he hated or loved that nobody questioned him. When his father could spare time to pay attention to him, it was usually to critique him. The only questions were rhetorical, but Mason still despised them. However, he didn’t really mind Adeline’s questions as much— even if they were still bothersome. In any case, the fact that no one asked questions is the same reason it was quite easy to hide away in whatever holes he pleased. At least, until he was needed again, then he found the servants to be quite persistent.

Mason rolled his eyes, hopping out from behind the hay bales, frightening the maid that was probably looking for him, “I’m right here, don’t worry.”

There was a mix of shock and concern in the tanned male’s eyes as Mason dusted the stray hay off himself, “Your highness, you concern Mary when you go missing for so long.”

Mason smiled, something that had aided him this far in life. He scanned the lanky male who had obvious signs of his fae descendants. His skin was like a human’s, save the shimmer that seemed to lay below and the small horns that were almost hidden in the mess of his hair.

“At this point, I’m not really missing, am I?” Mason said, moving closer, “If you go missing often enough, it’s to be expected, right?”

The farmhand averted his eyes, “I guess so, your highness. But I urge you to hurry back inside the castle. You’ll be expected to get ready for dinner soon.”

Mason noticed the boy’s reaction and his eyebrows rose. He chose to ignore it, “I suppose. Do you need help around here before I go?”

“No, thank you, your highness,” the man said, and Mason remembered his name was Jaden.

“Then I guess I have no choice but to be off,” Mason hummed, making his way to the opening of the storehouse.

He was gifted a bow before the farmhand turned around and began to busy himself with the horses. Mason didn’t spare a look behind him as he exited the animal storehouse. The farmhand was cute but not worth the trouble, especially when every minute he stayed in the barn was another minute Mary would get mad at him.

As expected, Mason found Mary worrying at his door. He ignored her, choosing instead to enter his room, knowing she would follow behind.

“Mason,” she said, the one word holding millions of meanings, and Mason sighed, moving to his closet.

“Sorry, Mary,” he apologized breezily, as she began to run a bath, “I lost track of time.”

“Well find it, your highness,” Mary said, exasperated, “One of these days you will lose track of time, and I will lose my head.”

Mason laughed as he undressed, he had long ago asked her to stop dressing him, “You’re so morbid, dear Mary. I could never let my father kill you, you’re the only maid that lets me sleep in.”

Mary let loose a harsh sound, her laugh. Mason smiled; he knew Mary saw the truth behind his words. No matter how much he might antagonize her, she held a special place in his heart. The only one who had reprimanded him when she realized he was using his mother’s library as a funeral shroud, and the only one who had understood why.

“Hurry, now,” Mary said as she moved to his closet, “The water isn’t getting any warmer and you’re already running late as it is.”

Mason simply groaned, “Maybe I should stop hiding in the hay. Taking so many baths a day is getting tiring.”

Mary scoffed, going through the many clothes he had, “Poor little prince.”

Mason chuckled as he entered the tub but had no retort. Arguing with a woman as old as Mary just ended in getting your feelings hurt. Mary was a Shifter which meant she always had a little something more lurking under her skin. It kept her looking young even as she was the same age as his father, maybe older, but you could still tell that beneath the smooth skin and young face, she had years and years of knowledge that had often assured his obedience as a child.

He supposed she was the closest thing he had to a mother at the moment, but it was still a far cry from the loving warmth he’d grown up with. Mary was strong, and a warm shoulder to cry on, but that was about it. It had been enough for the past 8 years so, Mason supposed he couldn’t really complain. Although, he really did wish she would stop him from resting in hay bales.

“Hurry up, your highness. Dinner starts soon and I’m not losing my head because you’re a daydreamer,” Mary called, and Mason sighed as he sped up.

Bathing passed quick enough and Mason almost regretted being stuffed back into his clothes. It wasn’t as bad as his fancy attire, but he had heard that most commoners could easily get away with simply throwing on and undershirt and trousers. ‘Dressing up’ quickly got boring when there was so much more you wanted to do. Mason attempted to bring his book to the table but Mary quickly took it from his hand as he made to leave the room.

“Not tonight,” she said, placing the book on his desk, “the king is more cross than usual. This is not the time to antagonize him.”

Mason stood at the threshold to his door, “Is it that bad?”

Mary simply nodded, “It’s annual budgeting time.”

“Oh,” Mason said as shrugging his shoulders, “Poor Adeline.”

“Poor Adeline, indeed,” Mary said as she begun to tidy the clothes he had left lying around.

Mason chuckled as he left his room, a rare, peaceful smile on his face. Then he spotted Mark.

“Mace?” the boy asked excitedly, “I thought you would be down at dinner already.”

Mason shook his head, “No, I was slowed down by a bath. You know how strict Mary is with her grooming.”

Mark laughed, “She’s just trying to make sure father doesn’t chew you out. Remember when you showed up to lunch with a grass stain? Father was furious.”

Mason joined Mark in front of his door. “God, he got so upset I didn’t even get to eat lunch that day. We might not get to eat dinner today either if we’re not there soon.”

“I’m just waiting for Jane,” Mark explained, and Mason saw the smaller maid rush about his brother’s room, “She says she’s just looking for a proper scarf. We have a guest tonight, apparently.”

Mason looked at Mark incredulously, “A guest?"

“Yeah,” Mark nodded, “Apparently, father and Addy have been showing them around all day. I think we we’re supposed to impress them.”

“Was anybody going to tell me?” Mason asked and then Jane suddenly rushed to the door.

“I found the perfect scarf, your highness,” there was an excited glint in her eyes. Jane was a small girl, younger than Mary but she still held some of the same fire, “Put it on the way I showed you this morning. Now hurry up and get to dinner.”

Mark nodded obediently as the boys headed down the hallway, “Thanks, Jane.” Jane had already disappeared back into the room, probably to tidy the mess that she’d made.

Mark turned to Mason, a determined look on his face as he tried to perfect his scarf, “You would’ve known about the visitor if you hadn’t disappeared right after tutoring.”

Mason rolled his eyes, “I was tired of being in the castle.”

“You’re always tired of being in the castle,” Mark mocked, “We both know the real reason is because you’re worried that you’ll have to spar me if I can find you.”

Mason scoffed, jokingly, “Please, I’m not that difficult to find. You just don’t try that hard.”

“I don’t know Mace. There’s a magic about you. How you’re able to disappear like that. Like the witches, almost."

Mason flicked Mark’s ear, “Be careful talking about the witches. You know they’re a touchy subject.”

Mark punched Mason’s shoulder, “I don’t know why, it’s been eight years since mom died, and those witches were punished. How bad can the rest of them be?”

“They’re not allowed in the central kingdom for a reason, Mark,” Mason said, but Mark laughed.

“You’re such a scaredy cat,” Mark said, rolling his eyes, “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the scary earth magic that has no way of working in a castle.”

“You should be protecting him from the king,” a feminine voice interrupted the two boys who were moments away from a tussle.

Adeline sat at the table; the large size of the table dwarfed her. She cleared her throat, “You’re lucky our guest is so entranced by our maid quarters. Otherwise father would be here to witness you both arriving late.”

Mason smiled as he sat down next to Adeline, “The maid quarters, that’s a weird thing to be interested in.”

Adeline smiled back, “I know right. She’s super humanitarian. I believe she’s from the Faralad Region, they’re really interested equal rights there, quite a peaceful people. Their military is small, but since they’re a huge trading power, very few regions want to cross them.”

“Seems like you’re in love with them, Addy,” Mark said as a plate of food was placed in front of him.

"Not love, admiration,” Adeline admitted, “I wish father took a few ideas from them.”

“I know, Addy, but you know how father is.”

“I know, I know,” Adeline rolled her eyes, the most improper thing she allowed herself to do every now and then, “He’s convinced we’d die if we had a smaller military.”

Mark sighed loudly, obviously bored of the political talk, “Hey, I learned this cool new combo move today in sparring. I would’ve tried it on Mason, but he disappeared again.”

Adeline quirked her eyebrows, a small smile on her face, “Oh, really? Where’d you go hiding this time Mason?”

“My usual spot in the hay. I scared the farmhand, I think,” Mason said, “Which is a shame because he was kind of cute.”

Mark choked on his food, and Adeline scolded him, “Stop hitting on the farmhands, Mason. We’re technically their boss.”

Mason’s response died in his throat as they heard the heavy rumble of the king’s laugh. Mason cleared his throat, “Talk about the boss.”

Mark tried to stifle the laugh in his throat as the grand doors of the dining hall opened, exposing the two figures in the doorway. The king’s children fell silent, suddenly entranced with their food. Adeline smiled at the guest; her mask of perfection once again tightened.

“Evening, Madame Irene,” Adeline said, lowering her head.

The woman was worn with age, but still had a kind of soft beauty around her. Mason reckoned it was probably fae magic.

“Sorry for keeping your father from you for so long,” the woman said as she took her seat at the table, and the children all smiled in a practiced unison, “I was simply enthralled by the excellent practices your kingdom keeps.”

The king spoke, “We’re pleased that our kingdom fits your high standards, madame. I understand your kingdom keeps highly humanitarian practices themselves.”

The woman nodded, “Of course, equality is important to us. As the foreign ambassador of Faralad, I’m glad that your visions for equality are similar to ours. I’m sure my king and queen will enjoy their stay here during the Peacekeeping.”

Addy perked up, but the king spoke before she could answer, “I’m glad to hear it.”

Mason fought the urge to roll his eye, he knew the response it would earn from his father. The Peacekeeping was a spying session disguised as a festival. It was nothing but an excuse for regions to spy on the wellbeing of other regions, from things as big as political unrest to as small as marriage scuffles.

The room broke out into a conversation about the Peacekeeping. The year before, the festival took place in Serance, but it was the king’s turn now. Mason couldn’t care less about the public displays of peace, he knew the horrors that stood behind even the most ‘fair’ countries. He tuned them out, returning to the book in his head. Only offering a chuckle or a smile when the part of him engrained to act like a prince did so, and rarely more than that.

Luckily, the dinner passed quickly, and Mason was once again greeted with the peaceful tomb that had become his bedroom. He buzzed Mary quickly, and then reclined on his couch, recent book in hand. It was an interesting read, but he was almost finish. It wouldn’t be too long before he was scouring the castle’s library for a new book. As he flicked the page, a small piece of paper fell from the book onto Mason’s chest. Giving into his plague of curiosity as usual, Mason opened the paper to find a quickly scribbled note.

“Queen Angeline,

We are writing you to beg of your help. Word has been passed down of your kindness and protection to other witches and we seek your assistance. We live in the West Woods, just past the Vander Village, and rumors have been spread that the guard will attack us tomorrow night. As we have a lot of children, we are unable to move quickly, and we request your aid. We hope you may answer our prayers.

-Bujo Coven”

Mason stared at the paper for a moment, or five. The Bujo Tribe was the Tribe that killed his mother, they were killed for murdering the queen. Mason wondered why they would beg for her help, only to kill her. The note was dated the day before his mother died, a detail that Mason barely had a moment to notice before he heard Mary’s tell-tale knock on the door.

“I believe you called me, your highness,” Mary sighed at the door, seemingly breathless.

“You may enter,” Mason called out as he quickly rose from the couch, placing the book and note on the shelf.

Mary walked in quickly, and Mason spun around, still slightly on edge, “I presume you would like to change into your sleep- Are you okay, your highness? You look so pale.”

“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine,” Mason tried to reassure Mary, “I’m just tired.”


	2. Adeline ???

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A peak into the day of Adeline (not too sure about this chapter to be honest ;/

It was the first Wednesday of the month, early summer, or late spring? Addy wasn’t sure, seasons seemed so trivial when it felt like the world was on your shoulders. However, it was definitely a Wednesday, because budgeting meetings were on Wednesday and Adeline hated budget meetings. Money was always an issue, even if the kingdom had enough there was always a disagreement on where funds were being placed, and by this point, she could predict most arguments from the first three sentences. She was a princess though, and princesses behaved benevolently no matter what the circumstances, even when the Head of Military was blowing a hissy fit at nine in the morning for no goddamn reason.

“Have you lost your mind?” shouted General Anthony, face insanely red, and Addy was worried about the vein on his neck, “You think that by balancing the budget we just fix everything? That’s not how it works, some areas are more important and more expensive than others and therefore require more money!”

Addy held her tongue, taking a deep breath, “I understand, General, but by bringing a semblance of balance we allow the under supported areas like Education and Health to excel— where as our brilliant military, led by none other than you, seems to be excelling. I’m sure a military so strong wouldn’t be knocked down by a minimalistic budget cut. However, it cannot be ignored that our people are suffering terribly due to the underfunding of these other equally important areas.”

The General sat down, and Addy finally allowed herself to breath, but didn’t relax completely, as he turned to her father, “She’s too idealistic, your Majesty. She doesn’t understand the importance of military.”

“That’s an underhanded assumption, sir,” Addy said incredulously, “I’ve been sitting in this boardroom since before I knew how to talk. I know enough to realize that while military is important, we cannot underestimate the importance of these other—”

“Enough, Adeline.” The King said, in that booming tone that made Adeline feel inadequate every time it was used. It was the voice he used when she messed up, a voice that haunted her nightmares.

“Your Majesty, I—" she tried to defend herself, but to no avail, the King was already standing up, which meant the budget meeting was over and she was about to get an earful.

“Meeting dismissed, we will meet again next Wednesday. Outside of the door there will be servicers to escort you to your cars. I apologize as I am unable to accompany you myself,” the King stated as he collected his papers. Everyone stood in an awkward silence, bowing as they exited the room. When the last person left and the heavy oak door clunked shut, Addy mentally prepared herself for her father’s wrath.

“Adeline, I told you this was a terrible idea. Your budgeting is too reckless, no one will agree to it,” the King said.

Addy took a deep breath, trying to stay calm, “I did the research, father. The people are suffering, not everyone can afford education and healthcare. There are children to which it is a fact that they will grow up uneducated and sick. As future ruler, those children will be my people. If we better their lives as children, the kingdom will be loyal to us when they are adults.”

The king scoffed, “You make it seem like my people aren’t loyal to me now. They will always be loyal to the throne, because people will always be loyal to power. Your job as future leader, a role you continue to show me that you are unfit for, is to maintain that power. Taking so much away from the military with that silly budget of yours would decrease that power. As for being the kingdom’s future leader, I would say you have quite a while before I can entrust this country to.”

“Father, you can’t—” Addy started, but was quickly cut off.

“Adeline,” the king said sternly, and Addy blushed at her mistake.

She cleared her throat, eyes down, trying not to sound so defeated, “I apologize, your Majesty. I will revise my budgeting for our next meeting. However, I am unable to completely disregard my ideals, sir.”

It was quiet for a while, as the king walked to the doors, his wilted daughter in tow. Then just as he reached the door, he mumbled “I find you are unable to do many things, Adeline.”

Addy looked up suddenly, shocked as her father let the door shut behind her, leaving her alone in the grand room. She looked around, smoothing her hands down her body in an attempt to calm down. She slowly moved back to her chair, placing the papers on the desk before sitting down and resting her head in hands.

“This,” she said, staring at the piles of paper spread on the desk around her, “is going to take a while.”

Addy was right, it was nearly lunch before she heard the door open and she’d just barely made a dent in the budget. She prided herself in excelling in her studies as a child, especially things as trivial as math, but moving the budget in a way that achieved what she what she wanted without angering anyone seemed impossible.

“Your highness?” The maid said, peeking through the doors, “Lunch is about to be served and your father requests your proper attendance. Will you be accepting?”

Addy looked up from the papers and nodded, “I accept. Will you help me carry these papers to my room, first?”

“Yes, your highness,” she said, rushing into help gather the papers.

The four hands made quick work of the spread pile of paper and they appeared in the dining room quickly. When the guard opened the door Addy saw her father and brothers talking quietly around the table. Mason was buried in a book while Mark happily chattered away, the only one fully focused on the conversation.

“Addy!” Mark spoke excitedly as she approached the table, “I did amazing in archery today, and not too bad in combat either!”

Addy smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair as she took a seat, he pushed her hand away, but smiled nonetheless, “Good job, Mark. I’m sure you’ll be able to spar with Mason in no time.”

“The little pipsqueak wouldn’t last a second with me,” Mason declared, not even looking up from his book.

“Well you’ll never know unless he tries, it’ll help him improve,” she said, nudging Mason under the table with her foot, “Besides, how long did it take you to catch up to me in sparring? I could probably still beat you right now.”

Mason started to talk but was interrupted by the king, “It’s unladylike to threaten someone at a meal.” The table froze, returning to calm demeanor that was expected.

“Sorry, father,” Addy said, returning her attention to the plate the maid had put before her.

“Incompetence is not something that can be helped, Adeline,” the king declared, and Addy simply nodded her head. Attempting to excuse herself felt futile, and the silence that had fallen over them was preferable to a lecture.

Addy’s short reprieve from work was not nearly as relaxing as she needed it to be; when she sat down at her desk she felt a headache looming just looking at the paperwork. It was mostly just signatures and fan-mail, but anything that was more than that was going to be a headache. Things had to be approved or disapproved, arguments had to be had and things always needed ironing out. It seemed that the only thing in the castle that could be neatly handled was the laundry. However, a princess was never so easily defeated, as her father would say, and she absolutely had to have finished something before bed or else she would never hear the end of it. So, she did what she always did when she felt overwhelmed by work. She tidied.

By the time mid-afternoon had hit she’d sorted her work into a careful order of due-ability and do-ability. She was quite proud of herself, but barely had time to be pleased before she delved into a speech that had to be handed in for revision as soon as possible. She took breaks every now and then, the simpler tasks giving her something less mind-numbing to do, but she’d still finished fairly quickly, and even had time to revisit the budgets before she heard the tell-tale knock.

“Entrance approved,” she hummed, still scribbling away at her paper.

“It’s quite late, your highness,” Maid Anna said softly, and Addy suddenly felt very tired, as if the chiming of the bedtime bell gave her permission to relax.

Addy began to pack away her instruments, returning things to the order she’d had previously, “You’re right. I suppose I should sleep.”

“I shall help you get ready, your highness?” Anna said softly and Addy nodded as she moved toward the closet.

Undressing was always a tiring process, anything that had to do with dressing properly was tiring. Anna and Addy both slowly worked at the layers, talking about how the day went for the both of them. It was a reprieve for both girls; Anna got to slow down and Addy got to stop thinking. Anna recalled the gossip going through the castle, and Addy talked about the funny parts of those terribly long meetings. Addy was almost sad that they’d finished as Anna helped her button her pajama top. With her pajamas on, she was supposed to fall asleep and then wake up and do it all again, but she didn’t want that yet. She wanted to not think for just a little bit more.

Addy watched quietly as Anna tidied up the room— she put the garments in the laundry chute and placed the crown that Addy had left on the desk on the shelf where it belonged. She felt useless, like a little toddler who only made messes for others to clean up. She quietly swore to do better.

All finished, Anna bowed at the door, “Good night, your highness. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Anna,” Addy said watching as Anna waved to the guard outside her door. Unable to keep her eyes open, she let them drift shut, happy to be free of the weight of thinking.

Adeline was woken up, not by Anna, but by Mark. He was sitting patiently, an eager smile on his face, but his insistent bouncing woke her nonetheless.

“Morning, Mark,” she said sitting up, “What’s wrong?”

She attempted to discreetly check the clock and saw it was 5:30 am, which meant no going back to sleep for her, because if Mark woke her up, then this was a one hour activity at the least.

“I’ve been stuck on this paper for a while, but the tutor isn’t coming until 10 and Mason told his guard not to let me in before eight am, so can you help me, please?” Mark said, shoving a messy notebook and pencil in her hands.

Adeline sat up, patting the spot next to her, “Sure. We’ll get it done before breakfast.”


	3. Mark finds

Mark loved his family, and he knew they loved him. Adeline had raised him, more or less, and Mason tolerated him, something that Mark knew was extremely difficult for both siblings. His father, the king, was well… The King. Mark realized their father was a bit rough with his older siblings, but the only time he recognized Mark’s existence was to showcase him as the strongest fighter of his age. It would’ve been nice to actually be spoken to by his father, not just spoken about. Nevertheless, he really did love his family, and that was why he fought.

At the age of 14, he was able to spar steadily with the kingdom’s guard forces. As the third in line for a throne he had no interest in possessing, it made sense to put all the effort from spare time into something more fruitful like fighting. Sparring got immediate results, groans and applause, sweat and smiles; no waiting for approval when the sound of bodies hitting the ground was enough to make his heart soar. It often confused his servants, how such a bright face turned so fierce within moments, but Mark loved it. The weight of a weapon in his hands and a force pushing against him made him feel calm.

Fighting gave him control; something he had so little of in this castle. He was in complete control during a fight, even if he was losing. He controlled how his body acted and reacted, and as he got better, he started to learn how to control his opponent. He liked having control; but sparring was the only way to have it, and he accepted that, and it helped in other areas, too. How to react to the servants who viewed him as nothing more than a weight on the King. How to act when his father paraded him around like a prized bull. How to react when Mason finally got tired of Mark’s antics and lashed out. How to act in front of Adeline so she knew everything was fine and she didn’t need to stress more than she already did on a regular basis. Everything was fighting practice, and Mark kept winning match after match, because losing meant watching his family fall apart, what was left of it anyway.

Mark still remembered the night that he’d never even got a chance to fight before he’d lost. Before he’d been woken up at the witching hour to the confirmation of his mother’s death. He’d only been six at the time, just learning the history of battle, still clinging to his mother as much as possible, still just learning about what it meant to lose. But life was such a good teacher wasn’t it. Losing a mother to death really highlights the notion of winning, losing a caring father really highlights the importance of your siblings, and Mark refused to lose them, in any aspect. Mark suspected that might be a part of the reason why he puts so much energy into finding Mason when he disappeared; just to prove to himself that he could, if he really tried. That’s why he really wasn’t fond of the fact that his brother seemed to be impossible to find. In the same breath, Mark knew it was his slight paranoia that made him ensure that Adeline never got lost in her paperwork. He allowed himself it. If mom’s death could make dad mean and Mason a recluse and a workaholic then Mark was allowed to annoyingly make sure that most of their meals were taken as one, to make sure that (almost) everyone was where they should be.

So, Mark loved his family, and he fought for them. He fought to make his father proud, his brother amused, and his sister at ease. However, as much energy he put into his family, he rarely saw them. His father and Adeline were almost always pre-occupied with the region’s politics, which is to be expected of the countries monarchs, but he rarely ever saw his brother, who had a hidden talent for hiding, even as Mark knew all of his brother’s hiding spots. Even today, when the rain meant Mason would have decided to stay inside the castle, Mark had trouble finding his elusive brother.

As he’d gotten older, he’d needed more and more tutoring (apparently learning Verucan took more time than learning how to count to 10; who would’ve known) which resulted in less and less time for sparring. Therefore, when Mark knew he wouldn’t have time for a proper sparring session, he decided to look for his brother. It was a search that often left him frustrated as he never found his brother until his brother felt like being found. Today was no different, as Mark roamed the many halls in search of his brother. He only found servants in the midst of preparation, and Mark felt bad every time preparations were stalled because he busted into a room, but the search for his brother was continued.

Mark was in the midst of deciding where to check next when he spotted his brother walking down the hallway, book in hand. He quickened his pace to catch up to his brother as he saw his brother disappear into a room that he’d sworn he’d already checked. Nonetheless, Mark busted into the room, excited to make one of his rare finds. He was shocked however when he found his brother in the middle of the floor, surrounded by books that had seemingly no relevance to one another.

At the sudden intrusion, Mason’s head snapped up, and Mark smiled, “Hey Mace, I finally found you. Whatcha doing?”

Mason stayed still, and Mark, trying to ease the tension, picked up a random book and read the title: Dragon Etiquette for Fools. Mark held back a chuckle, this wasn’t his brother’s usual reading material. “Are you gonna trying to convince dad to get us a pet dragon again? I thought we gave up a while ago.”

Mason still didn’t respond, but went from still to quietly nibbling on his lip, an unconscious signal of worry for the older boy, and Mark tried to not become too worried, “Mace? What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing. Just surprised you found me, usually it’s never that easy for you,” Mason said as he started to quickly pack away the books, putting them in systematic piles that seemed like nonsense to Mark.

Mark hurried to help, “Oh yeah, I’m getting better now-a-days, right?”

Mason grew wide-eyed, reaching to stop his brother from picking up a seemingly random book, “Hey— don’t!”

Mark continued, rolling his eyes, but as he lifted book after book, he noticed that they were surrounded by little slips of paper, all addressed to Queen Angeline. Mark looked at Mason in shock, confused as to why his brother who so rarely spoke about the death of his mother would be surrounded by papers full of her name.

“Hey, Mace,” Mark started, softly, “What were you doing in here?”

Mason sighed, eyebrows furrowed even as he slowly spoke, “I don’t think Mom was murdered by those witches.”


End file.
